


We are Gathered Here Today

by Telaryn



Series: The Hero and The Bad Boy [28]
Category: Leverage, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boys In Love, Dancing, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Nervousness, Rings, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:32:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn lets Parker guide his hand on one of the most important questions of his life!</p>
            </blockquote>





	We are Gathered Here Today

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kastron (decidueye)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/decidueye/gifts).



> It's the next logical step for the boys. *g*

“What is this, an engagement ring or something?”

Quinn’s heart sank, even as he checked the right pocket of his slacks and confirmed that the box he’d been using as a worry-stone most of the day was gone.

Eliot’s face was already darkening with rage. “Seriously Parker?” The thief was still wearing the stunning green and gold gown Sophie had selected for her attendants. Her hair was starting to come free of its professionally styled up-do, but she still looked uncharacteristically breathtaking. Quinn suspected it was the uncharacteristic part of that descriptor that had prompted her to pick his pocket. “Nate was supposed to talk to you about stealing from the guests!”

“It’s okay,” Quinn said, reaching out and stopping Eliot from moving in on his teammate. “I think I get why she did it.” Turning his attention fully to Parker he said, “Yes, that’s exactly what it is.” He held out his free hand. “Can I have it back?”

The thief studied him for a long moment. “Are you and Clint getting married?”

 _Dammit._ Quinn bowed his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. He could feel Eliot looking at him now, and knew even without turning to verify that his friend’s expression was incredulous. “I haven’t asked him yet,” he said finally, looking up at Parker again. “Can I please have it back?”

The girl held his gaze long enough that Quinn began to wonder if the rumors about Nate Ford’s mind reading ability were true and something he’d passed on to his successor. Then abruptly the spell was broken, and she dropped the box onto his palm. “You should ask him,” she said. “You love him and he loves you – you should ask him before somebody else does.”

Memory of a middle aged man in a dark suit, rival for Clint’s affections, rose unbidden in Quinn’s thoughts. Before he could answer Parker, Sophie’s maid of honor came up to them – a blond grifter Quinn had met a few times in Europe. “It’s time for the bouquet toss,” Tara said, taking Parker by the arm. “Sophie sent me to get you.” With a nod at the two hitters, the women headed back towards the pavilion where sounds of the reception could still be heard. Quinn started after them, but Eliot had his arm before he could take two steps.

“You’re going to propose?”

Quinn let himself be turned until he was facing his friend. “Is that a problem?”

Eliot released him and stepped back a pace, restoring the balance between them. “I don’t know – last time we talked I seem to recall you being heavy in denial about feelings you had for your boss.”

“Yeah – got over that pretty quick.” Quinn swore under his breath, feeling his cheeks grow warm. “The denial part, not the feelings – did I mention it’s been an interesting year?”

Eliot clapped him on the shoulder and guided him to one of the empty tables arranged nearby. “I’m actually still kinda stuck on finding out that Tony Stark and Nate are old friends, but yeah – I can see you’ve been through a lot.”

They glanced at the head table, where Tony Stark – Quinn’s boss and Clint’s teammate – was in the process of kissing Sophie’s hand while a smiling Nate looked on. “I nearly lost Clint to his old handler,” Quinn said softly, the words stained with still-painful memories. “About six months ago – the team thought he’d died just before the whole New York thing went down. Turns out, not so much.”

“But you and Clint…?”

Quinn tracked across the dance floor, where Clint was waltzing with Maggie Collins – Nate’s ex-wife. The two of them together made a heart-stoppingly handsome couple. Clint didn’t wear suits often, but when Quinn could talk him into them, he filled them out beautifully. He was a skilled dancer as well; the few times he’d lured Quinn out on the floor to join him, the ex-mercenary had felt impossibly clumsy by comparison.

“He chose me,” he said at last. “In spite of everything that happened, in spite of me giving him every chance to run, he chose _me_ Eliot.” Every time he stopped to weigh the truth of what Clint had done, everything they had – everything that was in front of them – Quinn’s heart actually ached with the joy of it all.

Eliot retrieved two cold beers from a passing server, handing one over to Quinn. “I wish you could see your face right now,” he said, resuming his seat. “That expression right there is a man stupidly in love.”

Quinn chuckled softly, picking at the label on the bottle. “Stupid’s a good word for it,” he admitted. “I told Coulson that sometimes I feel like a twelve year old girl nursing her first crush.” He glanced across the table; Eliot was taking a long pull off his own bottle. “I’m never going to find the perfect time to ask him, am I?”

“Depends,” Eliot said, lowering his beer again. “How long have you been carrying that thing around in your pocket?”  
********************  
“That was amazing,” Maggie Collins said breathlessly, letting Clint steady her. She’d been a fantastic partner, so he’d dipped her with a slightly over the top flourish at the end of the song – pleased with himself when he raised her up and she was laughing. “I can’t believe you’re not a professional!”

“My best friend taught me everything I know,” Clint said, positioning Nate’s ex-wife at his side so he could lead her off the floor. “And she still makes me look like a rank amateur.” As he held a chair for Maggie, Clint made a mental note to propose a club night to Nat. She was in the same position as he was partner-wise when it came to dancing – Bruce was actually _less_ interested in dancing than Quinn was, which was something Clint wouldn’t have thought possible.

“How long have you and Quinn been together?” Maggie asked.

Clint acquired two drinks from a passing server and joined her at the table. “Coming up on two years,” he said, sliding deftly past the fact that it all depended on when you considered the two of them to have truly gotten “together”.

Maggie at least seemed willing to take him at his word. “You two look really happy together.”

Clint knew he was grinning as he took a sip of his drink – it seemed to be his default response when people said anything similar. “Truth in advertising,” he admitted. A commotion on the dance floor drew his eye before he could say anything further – women were gathering around Sophie. “Shouldn’t you be in on that?” he asked.

He suspected Maggie’s answering shudder was only partly affectation. “My luck I’d catch the stupid thing,” she said. “Are you going up for the garter?”

“No,” Clint laughed. “That way definitely lies madness.” He sensed someone moving up behind him a moment before a familiar hand gripped his shoulder.

“If that’s true,” Quinn asked as Clint twisted around to look up at him, “mind if I borrow you for a second?”

Maggie was already nodding when Clint checked with her, so he got to his feet and let Quinn lead him by the hand away from the crowd. “What’s happened?” he asked cautiously, once they were safely out of earshot. Quinn didn’t seem upset, but his expression was most decidedly _not_ festive.

“I’ve…ah…been keeping something from you,” Quinn admitted as they reached a stone bench bordered one of the many ornamental gardens boasted by the property. Clint perched on the edge of the bench at Quinn’s gesture, his heart already beating faster in his chest. “Then Parker picked my pocket, and she and Eliot, and…” Twigging that whatever this was it was Quinn’s embarrassment at play and not something _bad_ , Clint was already willing himself to relax when Quinn pulled his left hand out of his pocket and held out a small square domed box, covered in black velvet.

“I’m never going to find the perfect time to ask,” Quinn said as Clint slowly reached for the offering – his mouth hanging open in stunned disbelief. “I’ll get down on one knee if you want me to Clint, but…”

Movement and control returned in a rush – Clint surged to his feet, grabbing the ring in one hand, Quinn in the other, and pulling his lover in for a kiss. “Yes,” he laughed, pulling back enough to meet Quinn’s eyes. “No traditional flourishes necessary.”

“You’re sure?” Quinn asked – almost as if he suspected Clint didn’t entirely understand what he was getting at.

Stepping back a pace, Clint passed back the ring box. “Yes, Jonah Quinn – even though it will probably prove to be the biggest mistake of your life, I will marry you.” He held out his left hand. “Now stop worrying and make it official.” He knew even without asking that Quinn had deconstructed and worried over every possible downside of them going down this road. There was nothing he could add that the man standing opposite him hadn’t already considered.

And as Quinn slid the heavy silver ring into place on his finger, Clint knew with absolute certainty that whatever happened from this point forward they would be able to beat it back together.  



End file.
